by John Lenahan
I pulled over at Gerard’s hut just before the entrance to the Yewlands and dropped Nora off.
‘Sure you don’t want to have a meal before you go in there?’ Nora asked.
‘No, but brew up some willow tea for when I get back. Yews give me a headache. I shouldn’t be long.’
And I wasn’t. I found the royal barge where I had left it and beached my little boat alongside. I got out and tried to speak to some trees – tried being the operative word. Just because I had the freedom of the Yewlands didn’t mean that they would speak with me. I went from tree to tree and got nothing until I took out a knife and threatened one tree that I was going to carve ‘Conor & Essa & Graysea’ inside a heart on its bark. That did the trick and I felt that familiar bone-crunching feeling as the tree made me drop the knife and fall to my knees.
‘Hey, hey,’ I said, ‘I was just trying to get your attention.’
The male and female twin voice of the yew echoed in my head. ‘Freedom of the Yewlands does not allow you to disturb our solemnity.’
‘I didn’t mean to disturb you. I just have a question.’
‘We are not hazels, we are not here to bestow knowledge.’
The tree made me stand and then spun me around. Just before it pushed me away I said, ‘I know who has been killing yews.’
The tree acted faster than I expected. ‘Who?’ it said with a voice so loud in my head I was glad I asked Nora to have that willow tea ready.
‘Maeve.’
‘Maeve is gone.’
‘She’s back. She’s been around in a Shadowghost form but now she and her army are back. I suspect she was the one that has been killing trees. In her ghost form she would have been hard to detect.’
‘Where is she?’
‘I don’t know but I do know that she will soon attack Duir. My mother thinks that with yew sap she might succeed where before she failed.’
‘Do you have more news?’
‘No, but I have a question.’
‘Ask.’
So I told the tree about Ona’s prediction about trees being the salvation of the Faeries. I waited as I felt the trees confer in the entire forest. The reply didn’t take long.
‘The yews have no knowledge of what you ask.’
‘Who would?’ I asked, but I had been released, and the yew once again ignored me. I wanted to ask again but then I laughed as I imagined the yew saying ‘What part of “no knowledge” do you not understand?’
I tied my little boat to the barge and then incanted the Ogham Dad had taught me and sailed back upstream to Nora.
Nora not only had tea ready but also soup and bread. We didn’t have time for me to sit and eat so I carried the food into the barge and let Nora navigate for a while.
‘What did the yew say?’ she asked when we had gotten under way.
‘They don’t know.’
‘Are you OK?’
‘Yes, I’m just sore.’
‘I have more tea in a flask if you’re interested.’ Nora poured me some more willow tea. ‘I remember how I felt after tangling with a yew,’ the young grandmother said.
‘Oh yeah, I forgot. You got judged by a yew without any preparation and you came away worthy.’
‘You sound surprised?’
‘No offence Nora, but that’s not usually how it works. Did the yews give you anything?’
Nora sat like Mona Lisa for a while and said, ‘That would be telling.’
Nora rode back to Castle Duir like the wind and I followed like a leaf caught in her vortex. We got home just after midnight. I was shattered but Nora was exhilarated. She offered to stable and brush Acorn for me and I didn’t say no.
The next day Dad ruined a good lie-in.
‘I always thought being a prince meant that I could sleep late and do anything I wanted.’
‘That’s what “commoners” think when they dream about being royal,’ Dad said. ‘You know what royal people dream about?’
I didn’t answer – it was too early for riddles.
‘They dream about being commoners.’
We ate in silence. Well, Dad was silent; I produced a continuous low growl hoping that he would leave and let me go back to bed. He just sat there smiling like he had a surprise for me. Finally I cracked.
‘What?’
‘I don’t think I’d have a breakfast that big if I were you.’
There are few things that can make me stop chewing but a sentence like that from my father is one of them. ‘Why?’
‘It’s just that I’ve heard rumours that the first day at The Hive can be pretty rough.’
‘The Hive?’
‘Yes, you’ll be spending the next couple of days with Master Eirnin.’
I tried to remember where I had seen the name Eirnin and then picked up the jar of honey on the table and read the name. ‘You’re sending me to the royal beekeeper?’
‘You know how the US Secret Service not only guards the president but they also are in charge of catching money forgers?’
‘No.’
‘Well,’ Dad went on, ‘they are. Many people around here have more than one job.’
‘Oh, can I be Court Jester?’
‘You don’t need any help from me to be a fool, son. As I was saying … Master Eirnin is not only the royal beekeeper, he is also in charge of preparing candidates for The Choosing.’
‘Dad, there’s a war coming. There are a million things that I should be doing.’
‘Like sleeping late?’
‘That is such a Dad thing to say.’
‘I agree there are a million things you should be doing but the first thing on that list is The Choosing. You know why it’s important. This is not open for discussion.’
‘How old do I have to be before I am no longer bossed around by my dad?’
‘You are old enough now that you no longer have to do what a father tells you to do.’
He stood and walked towards the door but before he went through he stopped and said, ‘But you will never be too old to do the bidding of your King. Be in the stable in ten … and I wouldn’t wear your good Nikes if I were you.’
I didn’t like the smile on his face. It was the same look that he had when he invited Essa and Graysea on the Mount Cas trip. I didn’t have to worry about not wearing my Nikes, Jesse had mine. When this all calmed down and I went back to Ireland like I promised, I was going to get to some big city and swap a bar of gold for a couple of pairs of cool shoes.
Master Eirnin was waiting for me in the stables. He was an Imp, unsurprisingly. He didn’t look very tall but he was on horseback so it was hard to tell. His cloth robe was stained and bulged in the middle. He looked jolly. ‘You’re late,’ he said.
‘Funny, that’s what everyone says.’
This produced no response other than, ‘Come.’ He turned and walked his mount out of the stables. I hurried to find Acorn.
Master Eirnin came back and asked, ‘What are you doing?’
‘I’m saddling my horse.’
‘Prince Conor, if I had wanted you to saddle your horse I would have said, “Saddle your horse.” Now come.’
‘On foot?’
He turned again. This time he took a coil of rope from his saddlebag. ‘Would you prefer I tie this around your neck like a dog?’
‘No sir.’
‘Come.’
So I jogged next to the Master Beekeeper. He was not jolly.
‘What did you have for breakfast?’
‘What?’
The Imp pulled his reins to the right and reared his horse. It stopped directly in my way and I hit the horse and almost fell over. ‘When I say come, I want you to come. When I ask you a question I expect an answer. Not another question. This is my final warning.’
He was wearing a floppy cap and I wondered if there was literally a bee in the beekeeper’s bonnet. He started again and said, ‘Come.’
I came.
‘What did you have for breakfast?’
�
�I had tea, apple slices, eh … If I had known there was going to be a test …’
Snap; the crack of a whip made it to my ears a nanosecond before my mind registered the searing pain on my back.
‘Hey!’
‘Focus, prince. I asked about your breakfast. Not about what you think.’
‘That doesn’t mean …’ I looked up and he was raising the whip again so I said quickly, ‘OK, apple, tea, two eggs, oatmeal and bread.’
‘And what did you have the previous morning?’
‘Well, I really didn’t have a normal breakfast …’
Crack. This time I lost my footing and went down. The whip cracked on my upper arm and it stung like I had been stabbed. ‘What the hell are you doing?’
Master Eirnin walked his horse back and loomed over me. ‘You only have two days to prepare, young prince. There is very little time to teach you.’
‘Teach me what? That you’re a sadist? I got that.’
‘I am attempting to teach you to focus, Conor. If you fail to concentrate with me you will experience pain. If you lose your concentration in the Chamber of Runes – you will die.’
Chapter Twenty-Two
The Hive
Ijogged behind Master Eirnin as he asked me all manner of mundane questions. Many of which I had no answer for, like ‘Name the lineage of your mother’s line back five generations.’ I knew Mom and her father Liam but after that, nothing. That didn’t stop the lash. Eirnin was a whip now, ask questions later kind of Imp.
Eirnin lived in a large conical brick house called The Hive. It did indeed contain a hive. Bumblebees half the size of my fist flew in and out of the many vents in the walls. These bees knew who was boss. They swerved for Master Eirnin but they acted like I wasn’t even there. During my next two days at The Hive, I spent most of my time ducking insects big enough to carry off puppies. It was a shock when one bounced off your face as you turned but it was worse if one stung you. Luckily it only happened twice: once when I stepped on one in my bare feet and another time when I accidentally caught one under my armpit. Both times I felt like Julius Caesar just after he turned his back on Brutus. The one under my armpit actually hurt the most but the one on my foot made walking a chore. All this, though, was ahead of me as the beekeeper led me into the training room.
The air was stiflingly thick with the overpowering smell of honey. In the middle of the room was what looked like a long narrow Olympic-sized swimming pool. Instead of water, the pool seemed to be filled with a white mould. Eirnin picked up a rake and skimmed the mould from the top of the pool. Then with his bare hand he scraped the mould off the rake into a bucket and walked outside. By now I knew that if I didn’t follow him, it hurt. Outside he dumped the mould on top of a compost heap.
‘Oh, I get it,’ I said back inside as he handed me the rake. ‘This is one of those kung fu master things where after I do your cleaning, I learn something. This is like a metaphor – as I clean your mould, you mould my mind?’
Eirnin was immune to my charms. As he walked away he shook his head and said, ‘If you were not Oisin’s son I would be tempted to release you now and let you die.’
Underneath the mould was honey. I spent the entire morning skimming the mould off and piling it in the garden. It wasn’t as disgusting as it sounds. The mould was pretty innocuous and the fresh air was a relief after spending time in the thick air of the training room. By lunch I was staring at a brick trench filled with golden honey. Eirnin returned and inspected my work. He inspected every edge to make sure no mould remained and found none.
‘Come,’ he said.
I was tempted to say, ‘Aren’t you going to give me a gold star?’ but then remembered the lash and stepped lively into his wake.
On the other side of The Hive the master had set out a table with bread, dried fruit and meats and, of course, honey.
‘Was yesterday’s lunch as lavish as this?’ he asked.
‘Yesterday, I had a salad with …’
‘Relax, young prince,’ he said with a wave of his hand, ‘that was not a test. I am only making conversation. Rest your mind for a bit, Conor; you will need all of your mental strength for this afternoon.’
Eirnin piled some special dark honey from a jar onto a slab of bread. After breathing honey fumes all morning I really was in no mood to eat the stuff but the Marquis de Beekeeper was a hard man to deny. He said it would make my brain work better and, since around here slow brains mean skin welts, I ate.
After lunch I followed the master back into the training room.
‘Remove your clothing.’
‘You speak English?’
Eirnin removed his whip from his belt and I started, reluctantly and nervously, to take off my clothes. When I got down to my underwear he said, ‘That will be enough. I will answer your last query, Conor, for I know this must be confusing but after that you do my bidding or feel the lash.’
‘Yes sir.’
‘In order to implement your training I have met many times with your father about your upbringing. I have also endured your Aunt Nieve’s hot gold ear and tongue treatment so I may speak to you in the language of your schooling.’
‘Gosh. Well, that explains why you’re so cranky.’ I instantly regretted saying that and expected my all too exposed flesh to get a whuppin’ but he ignored me – with maybe just the tiniest of smiles. There is no long-term defence against my charm.
Eirnin pointed to the pool of honey. ‘Get in.’
‘In there?’
This time the whip cracked and I jumped in before it hit me. Jumping into a pool of honey is not like jumping into a pool of water. I hit the surface expecting to go through but it was almost as bone-jarring as if I had hit concrete. The entire surface wobbled as I bounced back up. Then I started to sink but at an angle. That meant my feet wouldn’t be under me when my head went below water … I mean honey. I tried to move my legs but – I was in honey. I looked to Master Eirnin – he was nowhere to be seen. My panic increased proportionately with every inch I sank. I was seconds away from screaming when I thought maybe this too is a test. Surely he won’t let me drown? I mastered my panic as the honey reached level with my chin. My face fully submerged and I was thinking maybe I could panic now when I felt rope hit my hands. Eirnin hoisted me out and I hung there until my feet were directly below me.
‘Why did you not call for me?’
‘I thought it was a test.’
‘Next time you are about to drown, feel free to call out.’
He slowly lowered me so I could stand, shoulder-deep in the honey.
‘Now what?’
‘Now you walk.’
And I did. For the rest of the day I did walking laps in a swimming pool filled with honey. What was it like? It was like walking in a pool of honey. It was hot, sticky and unbelievably slow going. As it got close to nightfall, the beekeeper had me walking sideways and then backwards. After rinsing in a nearby ice-cold spring, I was sent off to bed. I went back to my room and asked Aein to bring me some supper but I didn’t eat it. My head hit the pillow and I went out like a used match.
The last place I wanted to go the next day was back to The Hive but a prince has to do what a king tells him to. Eirnin didn’t even speak to me when I arrived. He just pointed to the pool and I slowly dropped into the honey so as to not lose my footing. This day began with mundane questions. He asked me to name all of my school teachers. Hesitation was met with the crack of a lash. Most of these didn’t actually make contact but the memory of the pain from the ones that did made the sound as effective as the real thing. Let’s just say, I hope nobody actually eats that honey. Dad showed up late in the morning wearing a smirk and drilled me on German, French and Greek verb conjugation. It was just like when I was a kid and I could see how much he was enjoying my torment.
Essa’s dad showed up with lunch.
‘I imagine,’ Gerard said, ‘you would like something that did not have honey on it.’
‘Amen to that, Mr Wi
nemaker. What brings you to Duir?’
‘Oh I don’t know, Conor, maybe the impending war.’
‘Oh yeah. You know, I had almost forgotten about that with all of this hiking in honey stuff.’
‘Then you are doing it right. I have been through Master Eirnin’s tutelage. I know it feels pointless at the moment but what you are learning is to blend mind and body into one. You will be thankful when you step into the First Muirbhrúcht.’
‘That’s what I thought I would be doing here. I thought Eirnin would be telling what it would be like to walk The Choosing but he hasn’t said a thing. I saw Dad and Mom do it and it looked awfully difficult. So what’s it like?’
Gerard leaned back in his chair and laughed. ‘Conor, my Choosing was long, long ago. You want to know what it was like? I’ll tell you. It is like … walking in honey.’
‘Really?’
‘No, not really, but that is as close as you are going to get without actually entering the Hall of Choosing. Everyone says the First Muirbhrúcht is the hardest and in a way it is. You must be prepared for the shock of it. Like walking in honey, it will be like hitting a brick wall at first. You must slide into it. But unlike the pool here you will simultaneously be buffeted from all sides. Keeping your balance will require perfect concentration but your concentration will be tested by memories. Not actual memories – they will come during the Second Muirbhrúcht – but emotional memories. It is very disconcerting to have emotions without the underpinning memories. Many find it too much to bear. Fortunately you can quit after the First Muirbhrúcht and live.’
‘But not after that?’